


if your heart's still open

by bisexualklausmikaelson



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 09:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualklausmikaelson/pseuds/bisexualklausmikaelson
Summary: Some nights, she’ll gaze out the window and she’ll see him staring back at her. She purposefully leaves the curtains open, allows him to watch as she undresses. She imagines how cold his hands would be as they spilled over her back. His soft fingers would trace over her birthmark, draw around the pattern, maybe even pierce her skin. He’d taste her blood and it would feel like salvation running through his lips.





	if your heart's still open

**Author's Note:**

> au future fic/au after 3x10

―

Hayley Marshall decides that she needs a makeover.

Rebekah is silent for a moment. “You want to borrow my what?” the blonde girl repeats, sounding truly and utterly confused.

“Your dresses,” the she-wolf specifies. “And your heels…also, if you’ve got anything that comes in pink,” Hayley says as she’s standing in front of her mirror. She’s got her hands in her curls, applying the mixture of strawberry-blonde hair dye.

“But you hate pink,” Rebekah reminds her. Hayley’s style consisted of mostly dark colors. A lot of black, maybe a pair of purple pumps, and that one red dress she wore at the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant.

(She remembers that that was the first time she ever saw Klaus in a suit. And she thought he looked like a bloody lawyer before she even fathomed about how hot it would be to pull on his tie, to have him breathing heavily, sweating and groaning as he hovered over her).

“And strawberry-blonde really isn’t your color,” the Mikaelson sister comments, twirling a finger in to the sticky dye. She seemed a little charmed by the idea. 

“The old Hayley hated pink, and the old Hayley also hated strawberry-blonde,” the she-wolf explains, even though she isn’t making much sense at the moment. “I’m trying to be a new and improved version of myself,” which apparently involved turning herself in to a live Barbie doll. But, she was an immortal now. And if she was going to be stuck like this forever, she might as well experiment with different styles.

(Besides, Jackson’s death really broke her. Maybe the only thing she can do now is erase everything that reminded her of her late-husband’s existence. Including the fact that he used to compliment her on how soft her chestnut curls were, or how hot she looked in her combat boots).

“I think I liked you better before,” Rebekah says softly, just like she always does. Sometimes, Hayley hates her for being so kind because her words hurt her more than they should.

“Really?” she hums instead. “I never liked me very much,” she admits strongly.

Rebekah sighs, giving up on her quest and finally pulling out her collection of pink clothes. She offers Hayley a pile of frilly dresses in exchange for all her leather jackets and countless pairs of darkwash jeans.

Hayley stares at all the girly clothes in awe.

Well, at least there was nothing sparkly or sequined in this pile.

―

Cami shows her around the campus.

She doesn’t really mind Hayley’s new look. She even manages to compliment her on her sparkly pink lipgloss. Which, much to Hayley’s concern, is the exact same shade Cami herself tends to wear.

(She’s not trying to look like her, but now, Hayley can’t help but realize their stark similarities).

“There’s a daycare here too,” Camille smiles, pointing to the colorful building beside her. “Hope can stay there while you’re in class, if you want,” she shrugs.

Hayley bites her lip as she watches one of the kids run towards his parents. The mom’s holding her husband’s hand, and he’s got this big goofy grin on his face. Hayley sighs, Jackson used to smile that, she thinks.

“I think Hope prefers staying at her dad’s,” She absentmindedly blurts out.

She then realizes that Cami doesn’t react to the mention of Klaus’ involvement. It’s weird, the blonde psychiatrist is usually starstruck whenever she would hear any mention of the original hybrid’s existence. But, this time, Cami just offers Hayley a blank stare.

She guesses that they must be on some sort of a break.

―

She’s on her way to class when she bumps in to Klaus.

It takes him a moment to recognize her. And he can’t help but laugh. Her hair was strawberry-blonde and totally flat-ironed. She’s wearing a lacy-peach top and a bright pink skirt. Her nails are perfectly manicured and she’s in Rebekah’s old pair of sequined pumps.

Hayley scowls whilst attempting to regain her balance. God, how in the world did Rebekah manage to get anywhere in such uncomfortable shoes?

“You should watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” Klaus condescendingly rings.

She rolls her eyes. “Go away,” her tone is harsh, particularly because she was sick and tired of thinking about him so much.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “Is that any way to talk to the father of your child?” he asks, sounding a little amused.

She notices a pack of girls from her class walking by and eyeing him like he’s just about the hottest thing they’ve ever seen. They giggle and flip their hair in unison. Hayley felt like barfing. It was the most clichéd thing. They had no idea what kind of monster he truly was, that he would probably compel pretty college girls just so they could be his private blood bags.

Klaus raises his brows when he realizes that she’s sending him death glares. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear that she was jealous.

“What do you want Klaus?” Hayley barks, wrapping her arms tighter around her books.

“I heard about your latest widowy blues,” he oh-so casually tells her, like he’s happy about it. He could be. He never liked Jackson any way. “Rebekah keeps going on-and-on about how much she doesn’t appreciate the wardrobe swap,” he smirks.

It takes her the longest time to finally figure him out. “Are you here to make fun of me?” she guesses.

“Not really,” is all he says, leaning against the brick wall.

To the average on-looker, Klaus and Hayley could pass for a couple from a romantic comedy. It’s like a bad version of Legally Blonde; the one where Elle Woods loses Warner Huntington to a tragic death. And, instead of falling for the cute guy from her law firm, she’s stalked by her annoying baby daddy. Also known as the spawn of Satan. Klaus Mikaelson everybody.

“Why are you in school?” he suddenly questions her, like he’s actually curious. Like he actually cares.

“I never got to finish my degree,” Hayley mumbles. “Any more questions?” she quips, waiting to walk right passed him.

“Actually, it’s more of a favor,” Klaus finally admits. “Hope’s parent-teacher conference is tonight, I can’t make it so you’ll have to take my place,” he doesn’t elaborate, even though he can tell that she’s kind of curious about his whereabouts. “And wear something less…frilly,” he orders.

She had given him a small ‘hmph’ for his comment, and she even thought about digging her heel in to his foot. But, Klaus had decided to disappear. He zoomed passed her, ancient hybrid speed aiding his escape.

Hayley shook her head. She really needed to stop paying so much attention to him.

―

She doesn’t see him again for another two weeks, which probably means that he’s forgotten about their latest interaction. Hayley tells herself that she wasn’t anticipating their next meeting. If anything, she should be concentrating on her studies. Although, every time she stepped in to her Women in Art History course, everything about it weirdly reminded her of Klaus. 

She curses herself for falling back in to her old habits.

―

And, just like that, he pops back in to her life.

She had dropped Hope off at school and had managed to find some time to study for her upcoming mid-term. Hayley stares at Klaus while he takes a seat across the table. They were in a charming café just a little off-campus. It’s deserted because the coffee here is overpriced and tastes like ass. Though it was quiet. Which is exactly what Hayley needed, given that her hybrid hearing tended to be quite the distraction.

“So,” speaking of distractions. “How goes your first year in Women and Gender studies?” Klaus pops the question like they’re old friends catching up with each other.

“Great,” she fake smiles. “Until you showed up,” Hayley scoffs.

The look he gives her is nothing short of flirtatious. No wait, she’s reading too much in to it. After all, why in the world would he be flirting with her? He never did that without having some sort of ulterior motive. Then again, Klaus did make a habit of just being an all-around asshole.

“You know, I was alive during the first women’s rights movement,” he peaks over her open book, deducting the fact that she was studying something he was rather familiar with. “I witnessed the entire thing first-hand, Rebekah even forced me to watch some of the protests and rallies,” he adds on.

“Are you trying to help me with my studies?” Hayley reiterates.

“Perhaps,” he says, reading over some of her notes. “Your descriptions of first and second-wave feminism are extremely off-track,” Klaus completes.

“What the hell does a misogynist like you know about the waves of feminism?” she laughs since it’s actually ironic that he knows so much about women’s history.

“A misogynist?” he mimics. “I haven’t heard that one yet,” he chuckles because he’s been called every shade of monster, but woman-hater, now that had yet to come up.

“Well,” she bites her lip, watching him eye the hot waitress in the short skirt. “You do treat women like shit,” Hayley figures.

And, there it is again, that slight smidgen of jealousy in her tone. “Not always,” Klaus disagrees, referring to the fact that he treated their daughter with his utmost respect. “Besides, I don’t discriminate. I treat, not just women, but most people like total and utter shit,” he defends.

She doesn’t laugh. She just can’t give him that satisfaction. Her time with him is hardly enjoyable. He’s interrupting her studies, for Christ’s sake. Could he, possibly, show up at a time where she wasn’t busy?

“Klaus,” she acknowledged. “Why are you here?” That pretty waitress comes by again, pouring Klaus a cup of hot coffee.

He winks at her, thanks her for the drink. “Maybe I just signed up for a teaching job,” he announces. “I used to be an art professor, you know?” he hums softly.

“I’m not surprised,” she began. “You probably have nothing better to do with your time.” There’s an image of him forming in the back of her mind. One where he’s wearing glasses and standing against a chalkboard, talking about art, culture, gourmet French food, and all sorts of stuff that Hayley has no knowledge of.

“I see this new-version of you is still somewhat grumpy and moody,” Klaus chimed in.

She shoves her nose back in to her book, pretends that he doesn’t even exist anymore.

“You’re so annoying,” Hayley insults him once she hears him loudly slurping on his coffee.

―

It’s the middle of the night when she sees him standing by her window.

The house is no longer in Jackson’s name. It’s actually in Hayley’s name now, and she’s already dead. So Klaus doesn’t even need to be invited in anymore.

“Girls don’t like it when you stalk them,” it’s all she has to say. It doesn’t mean anything because he’s not trying to impress her. He’s probably just bored. Camille must have realized what a terrible guy he is and dumped him. Thus, he was wasting his time trying to seduce Hayley.

(That’s just her theory though).

“Do you enjoy it here? Living on your own, with no one to talk to?” he described, voice touched by the slightest hint of concern.

She meets his dark blue gaze. It’s the first time she realizes that his eyes have a little bit of green in them. “I don’t want to be around people right now,” Hayley stammers. “I haven’t been all that well since―”

“Jackson died?” Klaus echoes, calmly. Her wide-eyed reaction tells him that she’s still bothered by her husband’s sudden death. “It’s not so bad, my brother’s still waiting around for the day you’ll decide to run in to his arms,” he recalls.

“Elijah’s too good for me,” she falters, pressing a hand over her chest. Suddenly, her heart is a little heavy. “I break people, and your brother’s been through enough,” her tone is uncomfortably quiet.

He thinks back to when he used to look at this apartment with envy. It was a picture perfect painting of the classic husband-wife-and-baby dream scenario. Klaus remembers wanting to be here, with her and Hope, like it was some kind of unachievable task. And now that he’s finally been invited in, he’s discovered the sheer irony of the situation.

That this apartment was no longer the home of a happy family. It had turned in to some lonely and dark place, lined with empty packs of cigarettes and unfinished bottles of liquor. 

“You’ve been drinking,” he notes, picking up the bottle of bourbon.

“Don’t worry,” Hayley answers. “I only drink on the days where Hope is staying with you,” she confesses as she takes the drink away from him.

She figures that putting up with Klaus’ shit earned her a sharp swig of bourbon.

It takes him forever to notice that she looks more like herself tonight. Besides the odd-blondish hair, Hayley Marshall was sort of back to normal. Maybe it’s because it’s late, and she doesn’t wear all that pink make-up to sleep. She’s got on, what looks like, Jackson’s old sweater and a pair of sleep shorts.

“You could…move back in with me,” Klaus suggests, sounding nervous.

She blinks twice, trying to understand his latest demand. “Is that why you’re doing all this? So we could be one big happy family?” Hayley wonders.

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

There’s a vague ache bubbling up inside of her. It’s that terrifying feeling of passing up on something important. Like, if she’d only been listening harder, she would have heard him say this instead: my home is empty without you and there’s a void somewhere inside my heart and I am broken, so terribly broken.

“I’ll give you a few days to think about my offer.” This time, Klaus doesn’t even hesitate.

He pushes her hair behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger on her skin. And when she finally opens her mouth to speak again, he’s gone.

―

Go to hell you pompous dick.

She leaves him the worst voicemail ever. This drinking-with-strangers thing is what college girls are supposed to do. Hayley convinces herself that Klaus’ inner-drama-queen would kick in. That he would show up at the club while she was dancing with some guy. He would grab her by the arm, drag her out, yell at her and kiss her―

I hate you. I hate you so much.

―

He finds her at Rousseau’s.

She’s flirting with the bartender who kept slipping her free drinks. Manipulation had always been her strong-suit. She didn’t even need compulsion, her hybrid abilities might as well just be a backdrop. Klaus slips in to the seat next to her, compels the bartender and tells him to go run a marathon. He laughs at his own antics before he realizes that Hayley is crying.

“I was happy when I was with you,” she sobs.

“You were?” it’s all he says.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearing her own tears off with her fingers. “And it meant a lot knowing that after everything that I’ve done,” she hesitates, thinking back to their intense fight from four years ago. “Everything that we’ve done, that Hope had a real home with us,” Hayley finishes.

If this were Elijah, she’d expect him to pull out his fancy hanker chief. Jackson would cradle her face, kiss her tears away. But, this is Klaus. So his reaction is completely different. He just looks straight at her, and makes her realize that she’d spent half the night avoiding his gaze.

“You should come back,” he suggests. “It would be nice to have you around again, and you wouldn’t have to put on this disguise anymore.”

“You don’t like me as a blonde?” she giggles.

He doesn’t even think twice about it. “You’re beautiful,” he tells her, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But…this isn’t you,” Klaus tangles a finger in to a blonde curl, looking rather perplexed.

“Beautiful, huh?” she mocks. “Is that how you get the girls to fall for you? You just bat your pretty blue eyes, throw in a few mediocre compliments―”

“Whine about my childhood, show them a couple of hideous paintings,” he stops, but he doesn’t laugh. “We’ve been over this before, love,” he points out.

It’s been a while since she’s allowed herself to cry. Klaus had always been able to bring out the worst in her.

“Do you think it’s okay?” Hayley whimpers. “Am I allowed to move on?”

Suddenly, his vein twitches.

“Of course you are,” Klaus says. “If that’s what you want,” he rephrases.

“I don’t know,” she insists. “I’ve had enough people die around me.”

“Fine,” he uncomfortably releases. “Just, come home already.”

That’s just―

Did he have to say it like that? His words were the saddest thing she had ever heard. She felt like such a damned fool. She wasn’t supposed to be that girl. She’s meant to be immune to his charms, find his accent rather irritating instead of endearing. She expected to hate him for the rest of her life. Not fall for his petty romance or dark poetry.

“It’s not my home,” that’s all she says before she abruptly walks away from him.

(It’s the first time she’s allowed herself to have the last word).

―

She hates sleeping alone.

Some nights, she’ll gaze out the window and she’ll see him staring back at her. She purposefully leaves the curtains open, allows him to watch as she undresses. She imagines how cold his hands would be as they spilled over her back. His soft fingers would trace over her birthmark, draw around the pattern, maybe even pierce her skin. He’d taste her blood and it would feel like salvation running through his lips.

Nervously, Hayley turns around. She takes one last look at him before she draws the curtains shut.

―

It’s the last day of her first semester and she’s decided to skip her exam.

She puts down her books and goes out for a run. She decides to leave her heels behind. Hayley settles for a pair old sneakers. She pulls out her suitcase of normal clothes. They really smelled terrible, but at least they were comfortable.

“Are you alright?” Marcel runs beside her, sticking an earphone out and smiling.

He ran the same route almost every day. So it was no coincidence that Hayley also wound up finding him.

She breathes in, prepares herself for the onslaught of unwanted emotions. “I’m only in my twenties and I’m already widowed with a kid. I’ve just thrown away my degree, I broke Rebekah’s favorite heels, and my dumbass of a baby-daddy won’t stop calling me,” the she-wolf takes out her phone. Klaus’ number flashes in Marcel’s face.

He chuckles. Hayley hates this because it seems so normal. Like he’s not some century old vampire. And she isn’t some messed up half-wolf, half-monster and full-on clichéd college drop-out. 

“Klaus?” He laughs. “So, you’re his latest fling?” Marcel teases.

“It’s not like that,” Hayley realizes.

She couldn’t just condense her relationship with Klaus in to one word. Truthfully, he was so much more than she could ever bear to say. He was the first person she could simultaneously hate and love. He trusted her more than she knew. He called her his family on so many occasions, that it almost broke her to bits.

“He does care about you,” Marcel interrupts her thoughts. “I know Klaus’ affections are hard to understand sometimes, but I think he makes it explicitly clear that you mean something to him,” he explains.

The young vampire knows him so well. It makes her wonder about Marcel’s closeness and growing fondness for Klaus’ company.

“But,” he starts again, burning an unholy stare in to her skin. “The question is; does he mean anything to you?”

It throws her off. She didn’t expect to feel everything right at that moment.

(Of course Klaus means something to her. He’s the father of her baby. He’s saved her life once, twice, maybe even three times. He’s the guy with that cocky grin she can’t stand. The douchebag with the broken home. He’s the sound of pouring rain slapping against a window frame. He’s ungodly, possibly, the most sinful and passionate creature she has ever met).

Shit, she thinks while throwing her hand against her forehead.

“I need to go,” she says instead, running off.

―

It’s around two in the morning and, like clockwork, Klaus decides to look out his window. He notices that the curtains are left undrawn and that the windows are open. Strangely, Hayley doesn’t seem to be home.

Instead, she shows up at his door and shoves her books in to his chest.

Her hair is back to the way it was, brown curls and accessory-free as it cascaded down her shoulders. Klaus blinks twice, recognizing the fact that she had gone back to her usual make-up routine, and that her clothes were no longer so…pink.

Hayley walks passed him, holding her head up high as she dragged her suitcase inside.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she orders him. “I’m just here because I actually got a second chance at my exam, and you’re going to help me study for it.”

“Then,” he offers her a look of incredulous amusement. “What’s with the suitcase?”

Hayley furrows her brows as her cheeks turn bright red. “Nothing,” she insists, although she doesn’t sound sincere. “Just, tell me everything you know about Frida Kahlo, Margaret Harrison, the Guerrilla Girls, and any other woman in the history of feminist art,” she announces, attempting to recall the amount of half-baked knowledge her professors had taught her.

“Well,” Klaus smiles, while he follows her in to his study. “We’re in for a rather long night, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” she nods.

Klaus can’t help but scoff at her arrogance.

I’ll go make us some coffee, he sighs happily.

(He’s just glad to see that she’s finally back to her old self; which is a slightly grumpy, and an easily agitated motherwolf. Klaus doesn’t think he minds though, because he’s pretty sure that he wouldn’t have her any other way).

―


End file.
